Darkness of a Tortured Soul
by PD31
Summary: One, lone girl vows to keep the night safe for those who are dearest to her – no matter the cost.
1. Prologue

Darkness of a Tortured Soul

By PD31

**Summary: **One, lone girl vows to keep the night safe for those who are dearest to her – no matter the cost.

Rated T for violent themes.

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Prologue

_Los Angeles_

_August 2013_

Darkness had descended on Los Angeles; it was not just nightfall, it was far deeper – and darker – than the night. Hope itself seemed to have packed up and left the city.

She lives a secret life in a world of danger and torment. She isolated herself from those dearest to her for their own safety. She doesn't know when she realised that she was different, just that she figured out that she is, that she had a different purpose and calling in life to others. After High School, and all the mistakes she made and the people she hurt when she was there, she decided to dedicate her life to making the night – and the city – safe for those who encounter it.

She always was the child of the night, she reflects as she walks down the dimly lit street; her _perfect sister_ belonged to the day, she to the night. She thinks of her best friends, of how one left to be with her dad in Europe and then, when she returned, the two of them became, officially, a couple and moved away to college together, how they had worked hard for what they have and she feels some regret that she didn't do the same. She shrugs the feeling off; she can't allow feelings to cloud her mind when the darkness is all around her, anyway _this_ is what _she_ works hard at. She thinks of her new flatmate and her childlike exuberance, the impression that she's incapable of an awful thought, let alone an action and reiterates her vow to keep the night and the city safe for people like her. Turning a corner she sees a guy in his early twenties being set upon by a small gang of three youths. Like her they are dressed entirely in black; only her curly tresses of dirty-blonde hair peaking under her black beanie give any hint of colour to her appearance. _Unlike_ her their intentions are dishonourable. Stealthily she draws herself to the back of the commotion.

She doesn't announce her arrival; her silent footsteps do not betray her. Without warning she grips the arm of a would-be assailant; as he spins to face her her first swing puts him down to the ground, strangling his surprised gasp in his throat. The others turn quickly to face her, shock etched on their faces and their victim whimpering in distress on the ground. She takes a step back as the second guy charges her; a swift kick sends him to join his friend on the floor. Narrowing her eyes she advances on the third and final goon; her eyes follow his hand as he draws a knife from his jacket. She quickly reaches down and takes her own from her sock, an action that stays his hand. This is his first mistake.

Their eyes meet, his second and decisive error; her hands are a blur as she moved in and draws blood from his right arm. In pain his knife falls to the floor, the sound echoes through the otherwise still night. Equally swiftly she sinks her blade into his other arm, then into both legs. He screams and crumples, collapsing from the searing, agonising pain of his wounds; she roughly seizes his shirt and uses it to wipe the blood off her steel weapon before she sheathes it again.

The blonde spared the gang's victim a half-glance; his whimperings have ceased and he looks at her, his protector, nought but a silhouette against the dimly lit street. She surveys the three fallen would-be robbers for a moment, two unconscious and one bleeding his way to joining them, turns away and leaves the side-street without a word to her grateful fan; this mission is completed, there's nothing more to be said.

The straight-backed blonde continued to roam the streets and side-streets of Los Angeles, always on the look-out for trouble. It was, however, a thankfully quiet night in the City of Angels and after only a couple of hours and some minor skirmishes she heads for home.

_Sam & Cat's apartment, Los Angeles_

"Hey little red!" the blonde called as she entered their home.

"Sam! You're back! Where have you been?" the red-head's brow furrowed in confusion; she didn't like that her roommate kept disappearing for hours on end on an evening, particularly when they had kids to babysit.

"Oh, just out and about," she shrugged, keeping things deliberately vague so as not to burden her friend with the truth of who she was or what she did on an evening. "I'm gonna change then how about we watch a movie?" she suggested through gritted teeth; Cat's choice of movies seldom appealed to the blonde but she wanted a night of normality after her evening's vigilantism so she was willing to let her choose.

"Awesome!" the girl was immediately distracted by the prospect of movie night with her friend. "I'll pick one and get the popcorn!"

As Cat dashed around preparing their evening's entertainment, her blonde flatmate headed to the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She turned on the tap and began to wash the blood from her hands, literally if not figuratively.

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**AN: Thank you for reading, just a little teaser of a story idea. I hope to update it soon if people like it. PD.**


	2. Chapter 1: It never gets easier

**AN: Hello everyone and welcome to my new chapter of this story. I hope that you all enjoyed the little teaser of a prologue and are ready for more. My thanks go out to those of you who reviewed the previous chapter – so a shout out to TheyoungBaker, IceRose92, KirbyPaint, Challenge Kind, Jeremy Shane, pbow and Guest.**

**Content Warning: T rating is really being pushed here for some **_**very **_**dark themes; this story will be quite a lot darker than the ones that I usually write; you have been warned.**

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Chapter 1: It never gets easier.

_Downtown Los Angeles_

_September 2013_.

It never got easier.

The last few weeks had been kind to Sam, the blonde mused as she conducted her nightly patrol. The girl crept from shadow to shadow avoiding the better lit areas and keeping away from any of the patrols of cops; they had started to take an interest in the activities of the nameless, faceless vigilante who roamed the streets on a night, issuing warnings to the public that nobody should be taking the law into their own hands.

It was lucky, therefore, for the girl that things had been relatively quiet of late; a few scuffles outside of bars and the occasional mugging that she had been able to prevent but few gangs or groups involved in anything more serious – until now.

A scream shattered the night, blood-curdling and terrified. Sam spun around to try and place it; a second scream was truncated and a little muffled, as if a hand had covered the mouth in mid-shout. No longer hiding from the lighting on the deserted street, Sam took off at top speed in the direction of the cry for help.

Still unsure of the exact location, the blonde glanced down side street after side street and alleyway after alleyway until her eyes picked out a scene in the gloom; a short girl who could have been her best friend and roommate, but for the dark colour of her hair, was pinned against the wall by a tall, muscular, black-haired goon. The thug had pushed his hand up the terrified teenager's skirt while the other was clamped over her mouth, both silencing her and pressing her against the brickwork; from the corner of her eye Sam saw another girl, with similar hair and attire, slumped on the floor. The blonde quickly reasoned that she could do nothing for the fallen teen at this moment; her immediate job was to protect the girl at risk of being violated. She crept stealthily behind the goon, raised her elbow and swung it down in an arc towards the hand invading his victim's dress.

The assailant roared at the pain inflicted on his forearm; the arm went limp and dropped to his side. He turned to face his attacker and blinked at the sight of the short, entirely black-clad body in front of him. His useable arm left his would-be victim's mouth but the girl, petrified by fear, didn't move. Sam quickly glanced from her to her friend before returning her focus to the lumbering hulk in front of her. The message was received though; the brunette dashed behind her would-be rapist to check on the condition of her fallen friend.

Sam, meanwhile, adopted a defensive stance, crouching slightly and transferring her weight towards the back of her feet as the numbness in the thug's arm began to wane. He shook the limb and flexed his fingers, smiling as the feeling returned to it; he clenched both his fists and took a step towards the girl, reasoning that his more imposing physical stature would be decisive in this confrontation. The blonde matched his smile and narrowed her eyes, ducking nimbly as she swung on her; she brought her fists together and swung up towards his stomach as she straightened her knees.

The momentum of her blow sent him stumbling against the wall; Sam spotted her opportunity and sprung forward, driving her elbow into his gut, winding him. As he gasped for breath she threw a left at him, jerking his head to the side. The girl attempted to follow up with a right but he caught her fist in mid-air and tightened his grip on it, squeezing the fingers into one another. The blonde winced in pain as she struggled to free her hand from the vice-like grip; the goon made the mistake of thinking he had the advantage, only to realise his error as Sam drove her knee viciously into his groin. His cry of pain was strangled by the spray of vomit that left his mouth; hand released Sam was _just_ able to leap aside to avoid being coated with the projectile. Her enraged opponent reached into his coat and pulled out a knife; Sam reached into her boot and drew her own, somewhat shorter, blade in response.

Sam was forced to take a step back as the guy lunged forward; mindful of the pool of vomit behind her and _really _not wanting to slip in it, for more than one reason, the blonde jumped backwards over it, retreating towards the opposite wall of the alleyway and the open street behind her. She wished the whimpering girl near her feet would just help up her friend and get out of there, that way she wouldn't have to hold the thug off for too much longer before she could make her own getaway.

Unfortunately that didn't look like being the case any time soon; the blonde shrugged as she realised that she'd need to beat him off to make sure the girls could escape unscathed, particularly when her urge to "take her and run!" was met by yet more whimperings. She sighed and turned her attention back to the thug, just in time as, in his rage, he swung the knife down in an arc; Sam twisted away but the point of the blade caught her arm. It was a small wound but it drew blood. Sam touched the spot with her free hand, frowning and narrowing her eyes again at the sight of the sticky red liquid on her fingers.

"You will regret that!" she spat out.

Her threat failed to halt the other; emboldened by his success and superior weapon he stepped forward and attempted to press home his advantage. Realising that she needed to get to closer quarters in order to fight him, Sam tucked the blade up her sleeve and tried to step inside the man's reach to neutralise his weapon. He swung again but she was able to intercept, blocking his swing by forcing her forearm against his own, unfortunately for Sam it was not the arm that she had injured earlier so it only briefly stalled his attack. He swung his own free fist up into her stomach, forcing the blonde backwards. He pressed home his advantage by kicking out at her thighs; Sam stumbled and found her back against the wall.

"This is what you get for interfering," he spat out as he brought his knife to the teenager's throat. In desperation Sam swung her arm up, the force expelled the knife from her sleeve and it embedded in his chest. He staggered back, eyes widening in shock at the sensation of his life draining away; with relief Sam pushed him away from her, unsheathing her knife from his heart as the light of life dimmed in his eyes and he began the final slump to the ground. With a look of disgust she bent down and wiped the blood from the knife on his clothes; she offered one last look to the girls she had rescued, neither of whom had moved from the ground, before turning and leaving the alleyway and fleeing for the sanctuary of her home.

Sam stopped in a secluded, dimly lit area and flung herself onto a patch of earth; the soil stuck to and masked the damp blood that had got on her black clothes.

_Sam and Cat's apartment_

"Hey little red," she called artificially cheerily as she entered the apartment.

"Hi Sam!" was the genuinely cheery reply from her roommate. "Eww Sam, you're all dirty," she whined as she saw the dust-coated outfit her friend wore.

"Yeah, I'm gonna take a shower," the blonde informed her.

"Well hurry; don't forget it's movie night!" Cat exclaimed.

Ordinarily such an enthusiastic proposal would have been met with a weary groan from the vigilante but she craved a slice of normality tonight. "Sure, put the DVD in and I'll be out soon," she uttered, stifling a gasp as the emotions of the evening finally caught up with her; she moved as briskly as she could to the bathroom without raising the other girl's suspicions, locking the door behind her and leaning over the sink swallowing and coughing as she sought to suppress her body's urges and keep her stomach's contents where she felt that they belonged.

Sam Puckett wiped her mouth with her arm before turning the water on in the shower; she stripped her filthy, blood-stained clothes from her body and threw them into the tub before stepping in after them. As she tried to wash away the physical reminders of the evening, and keep her composure intact, one thought stubbornly remained with her; it never gets easier.

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**AN: Ok, as promised this is a dark story and a dark chapter of it. For those of a certain age I'm trying for Sam as a Xena: Warrior Princess type of character in her attitude (which may or may not lead to Cat ultimately being her Gabrielle…) I do hope you all enjoyed it and that you'll come back next time; future chapters will feature a bit more of her, and Cat's, life outside of her 'work'. In the meantime your feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading and, in advance, for reviewing. PD.**


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